


The Accident

by sir_coriander_cadaverish



Category: Nimona (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Explosions, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23548474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir_coriander_cadaverish/pseuds/sir_coriander_cadaverish
Summary: This is my take on what probably happened during the Accident - and the moments after.Noelle doesn't actually specify how old the boys were when the accident happened, but I'd place them around 19 or 20.
Relationships: Ballister Blackheart/Ambrosius Goldenloin
Kudos: 17





	The Accident

"AAAAH!" Ballister's scream ripped through the humid air. The crowd immediately fell into a thunderstruck silence. Ballister was on the ground now, eyes squeezed shut, with angry clouds of smoke billowing from a gaping hole where his right arm had been. 

Presently, not a soul in the arena had processed what had happened; for a moment, all was still. 

Then there was chaos. 

As the crowd buzzed with alarm and confusion, and many of the spectators began to hurry out of the arena in all directions, and guards shouted urgently at one another, and Ballister cried out in pain, and horses whinnied and bucked, Ambrosius could only stand still, frozen in horror. His eyes darted through the wreckage he'd created - from the widening pool of blood surrounding Ballister's torso, to the shredded armor, to the grisly bits of blown-off flesh, to the dark clouds of smoke which filled the air, to Ballister's face, streaked with dust and etched with agony. Guards ran to the terrified boy's side, struggling to assess the severity of the injury. "My arm," Ballister cried, chest rising and falling at an alarming rate, "what - what happened to my _arm-_ " his voice dissolved into panicked sobs - Ambrosius, finally regaining control of his body, started running across the grounds toward him - "Ballister!" he shouted as loud as he could - but a hand seized his arm before he could reach him. "Stay back!" he could hear a guard shout at him. Ignoring the voice, Ambrosius stumbled forward. "Ballister!" He could no longer see him within the blur of guards and medics that surrounded the fallen knight. He took a few more steps, then stopped, growing unbearably dizzy. "Ballister!" he cried again. "Ballister, I'm sorry-" He fell to his knees, head spinning; he felt as though he were weeping, though his eyes remained as dry as the dusty ground beneath him. "I'm so sorry..."

Ballister, meanwhile, could feel his consciousness slipping away. The pain in his arm (or whatever was left of it) was so intense that he could hardly think of anything else. He couldn't remember the last time he had been quite so frightened. His whole body quivered feverishly, his tears flowed ceaselessly past his ears and back into his hair, he could smell his own blood, and what looked like a dozen people were all shouting as they hovered over him. 

_"I need bandages, stat!"_ \- a dark-skinned nurse with her hair in a bun - _"Is there a scalpel on-site?"_ \- a muscular guard with gloves on - _"I'm going in for the shrapnel!"_ \- Ballister couldn't see who it was - _"Get this kid some painkillers!"_ \- a redheaded nurse with a husky voice - _"Stay calm, sweetheart, you're gonna be okay!"_ \- a particularly caring nurse who stroked his hair comfortingly - _"He's shaking like a leaf-"_ \- another disembodied voice - _"Ballister, I'm going to need you to remain calm, because this is going to hurt a little-"_

"No, wait, what're you doing?! We need to get painkillers for the kid first!" Ballister recognized this voice as the same nurse who had stroked his hair. "Thank you," he whispered, gazing up at her feebly. "Shh, it's alright, dear," she said, smiling down at him sadly.

Yet, in this hellish chaos, Ballister became vaguely aware that someone was calling his name. Was it Ambrosius? He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to think straight, if just for a moment. Where was Ambrosius? Had he been the one to cause all this? No, Ballister thought, he couldn't believe that. Ambrosius wasn't that much of a- 

Suddenly Ballister was distracted by a sharp burst of pain in his right shoulder, forcing another wail of pain to wrench itself from his body. "Please," he cried desperately to the guards and nurses, "just- just cut it off!" (Deep down, though, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.)

The only guard who heard him, a kind-eyed man with curly gray hair, gave him a pitying look. "I'm sorry, kid," he told Ballister as he passed a roll of bandages over to one of the nurses, "There's nothing to cut off." As Ballister absorbed this, it finally began to dawn on him that his arm was, most likely, damaged beyond repair. "It's- It's gone?" he asked, voice cracking into a whisper. The guard gazed down at the wound grimly, then his green eyes locked onto Ballister's bloodshot brown ones and he nodded with grave honesty. "It's gone."

After this, Ballister's vision grew fuzzy; his ears were still ringing loudly from the explosion. Slowly, his head fell back against the ground and he looked at the sky solemnly until his eyes brimmed with hot tears again. Just then, one of the nurses made her first incision at the wound, using a cold-bladed scalpel. This time, the pain in his arm was too much to bear: Ballister fainted.


End file.
